


Secret Name

by Blue_Sparkle



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Fluff, M/M, Secret Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 03:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3712609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle/pseuds/Blue_Sparkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwarves have secret names given to them by Mahal, names of the soul. Knowing a Dwarves name gives one power over them, and they are only revealed to family and loved ones. </p>
<p>And all his life Nori had never felt safe enough to reveal his to anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret Name

The fireplace in Nori and Dwalin’s home was larger and nicer than any Nori had seen before coming to Erebor. He remembered them in Ered Luin, smaller and slimmer in their build. The preferred system of ventilation inside the Blue Mountains had been different; Erebor relied on naturally occurring shafts all through the Lonely Mountain.

They curled up in front of it ever so often, after long days of hard work or to escape from the freezing cold outside, or just to relax and feel close to each other, as they were doing now. There was little to do besides enjoy the feeling of Dwalin’s body against his when they did nothing but sit there, and Nori had had many opportunities to examine and watch the fireplace. He could contemplate it and others he’d seen before, how they were different from the ones in Erebor, how everything was different from how it was in Erebor. 

He remembered being little and cuddling up with Dori to watch their small fire burn, the fireplace just big enough to warm the entire room. It had been very slim and with simple bars of cheap iron in front of it, but at the time it had been a true luxury. Nori remembered the larger fireplace holes in walls with only little space used for the wood; he remembered uncomfortably small ones he had hidden in praying that nobody would spot the thief that was not supposed to be there. He remembered the ones with stories and runes carved into the stone all around them.

They were all completely different from the fireplace before him now in his very own home, the first home that was just _his_ , and that _was_ a home. It was not just a place he happened to live in, but the place his family was warm and sheltered.

Perhaps it wasn’t the biggest compared to some Nori had seen in the towns of Men, but the stone around it was worked expertly: the grid was gilded and inlaid with pretty green and grey crystals, letting the fire’s shine create pretty patterns on the floor before it.

It was also one of his favourite spots in the house, one he hadn’t considered when he and Dwalin had chosen where they wished to live for the first time.

So often they ended up stretching out on the soft furs in front of the fire, Dwalin leaning against the edge of the armchair or a pile of pillows, his arms wrapped around Nori as Nori rested against his broad chest. They had blankets and mulled wine or honeyed tea when they did that, lazy and enjoying each other and the warmth and safety of their home. It reminded Nori of his earliest childhood, when he’d often go hungry and would worry for his mother and uncle and sometimes even Dori each time they went outside to earn money, and the evenings when he could just cuddle up with them and feel like things were good.

More than once there had been more than just the relaxing naps in front of their fireplace. There was a special kind of thrill in stretching out on a soft warg fur, feeling its softness against his naked skin while his lover leaned over him, the warm light reflecting of his solid and perfect body, the intensity in his eyes burning as bright as the fire near them.

There were _many_ reasons why Nori loved this fireplace, the centre of their lovely little home.

He had not expected to enjoy when the Dwarf army and their company had first started talking of making a proper habitable home out of the mountain. He had always wondered, had always felt hunted or unsafe or like he could just have that much more in the world outside. More fun, more to see, more to own and lose right away, more to survive and make sure his family would have all they needed and as little danger as a Dwarf could get in these uncertain times.

There was something about Erebor though…

Maybe it was the bone-deep tiredness Nori had felt at the time; maybe it was the damned effort and the losses they’d suffered to reach the mountain, let alone reclaim it, but Nori had not felt like wandering away.

He had stayed, had helped and watched as the Lonely Mountain came back to life. He had felt the endless relief when the Men of Dale had announced that they were certain their harvests and fishing would stock up the Dwarves’ own food supplies, and when there were enough workers to spare to send craftsmen down to help rebuild the old city of Dale. Prosperity had returned to the north even before the houses were completely rebuilt and there still was rubble everywhere.

The stench of Dragon was long gone and the company settled themselves in their new homes. Dori found a perfect one, of course, a place that Nori might have called a palace back in Ered Luin but was more than adequate for a family of three in Erebor. It was built so that it seemed like several apartments, with one big kitchen but also smaller ones in different rooms.

Dori and Ori had each chosen their own sets of rooms, so they could keep their privacy and Ori could be independent if he wished to be. He didn’t though, and all three brothers ended up sharing the kitchen and drawing room, being closer than ever before.

Nori had picked a room with windows on two walls and easy access to the roof out of habit, but there was no need for it anymore. He would never have to steal to survive, and he had his fun in ways the King approved of and that helped Nori protect the mountain he grew to love more and more each day. 

It was a modest room, not much bigger than the one he used to have in Ered Luin. The stone was more welcoming though, strong and soothing with the feeling of being surrounded by Erebor’s stone. It felt good to be there, a place to retreat and sleep in but also to just relax when there was nothing else to do and he didn’t feel like walking down to watch the city grow.

Staying in the same house as his brothers had only ever been temporary, and he’d told Dori that much as they examined the place. He had other plans for his future. Not right away of course. In the first few days after the battle Nori had wanted to run away from the cursed and bloodied place, away to somewhere where it was safe and the stench of dragon and death didn’t hang in the air. They had all been injured though, and he wasn’t stupid enough to run with barely any supplies and his entire body aching. Nor would Nori have dared to run away while his brothers were still bruised and beaten, or with Dwalin pale and trembling in pain at any motion or when he was on his own with his thoughts for too long.

Nori of Ered Luin would not have believed the decisions of Nori recently-of-Erebor. He stayed, and he asked to stay as close to Dwalin as possible when he still needed to rest himself. He had held the big warrior’s hand and felt how the mountain was the safest place to be and stayed. He used to hate Dwalin, a little bit at least. It was hard not to have a vague disdain for guards and honest and _honourable_ warriors like him when one was a thief and dishonest scoundrel.

It was also hard not to fall in love with someone who was as good and gentle as Dwalin could be. It was hard not to fall in love with someone next to whom even the worst battle seemed manageable, someone who one could sit next to and talk for hours, or just sit quietly without feeling uncomfortable.

They had talked while they still were in the healers’ care, as they had when they had first seen the mountain up close. Dwalin hadn’t been sure whether Nori even wanted to live in Erebor, or with him in their own house (he knew of the thief’s preferences and tendencies). Nori hadn’t been sure whether Dwalin would want a scoundrel like him in his house, or if Dwalin would eventually tire of him. They both ended up reassuring each other that no, there was nothing they wanted more, no doubt about this at all.

Dwalin had asked Nori to pick a house anywhere he wanted to, as there were few anyone had claim on. Nori had chosen one they both loved, though it would need repairs, and then they had agreed that there was no rush in having it fixed up. Let those who needed or wanted it more have the help of masons before.

They both lived with their brothers for the time being, meeting up in the palace and to walk the mountain. Dwalin would tell Nori of the things he remembered or how things used to be. They held hands and explored the growing markets and shops and watched the new Dwarves arrive in the mountain. Most of the days Dwalin would fetch Nori from the shared house of the Ri brothers, sometimes agreeing to stay for dinner as Dori suggested but most of the time not. Sometimes Nori had quietly snuck inside with him so that nobody would notice, even if there was no need for secrecy. It was a strange time, near everyone who knew them was aware that they were courting, but still Nori felt like a young Dwarf with the first suggestion of a fluffy beard when he was around Dwalin those days. 

And then they had moved into their new home…

Nori remembered the day perfectly, fondly, sometimes with nervous reverence…

There was an unexpectedly loud crack from one of the fire logs and for a moment Nori was distracted from his memories. He made a tiny motion towards it, blinking at the green and orange shimmers of light in front of the fireplace. Dwalin’s heavy hand shifted on his shoulder, the briefest caress against Nori’s collarbone, and Nori settled back against his broad chest.

Dwalin’s eyes were half closed when Nori glanced up at him briefly. He was smiling a little, the corners of his mouth turned up the tiniest bit, and his face was turned towards the fire as he enjoyed the warmth. He held Nori close and other than the rise and fall of his chest he didn’t move at all, too comfortable in the spot.

Nori cuddled closer against him, his cheek against Dwalin’s chest. Dwalin shifted a little to hold him better and allow Nori to settle more comfortably before he rested his own chin against Nori’s hair. He could nearly fall asleep like that, if he were more tired. Nori smiled and breathed in the safe and familiar scent of his love, curling his own arm around Dwalin’s middle a bit more.

They had curled up like that in their bed for the very first time, clinging to each other and enjoying the feeling or being in their own mountain, their own home, their very own bed.

Both of them had been inside the house before they moved in more than once, arranging furniture and carrying their sparse belongings to where they wanted to store them. Nori had even lain on the bed once before, on his own just to enjoy the perfect softness of the many pillows and furs and blankets they’d thrown over it.

Still Dwalin had insisted on carrying Nori through the door when everything was settled and they were ready to move in. He had picked Nori up despite Nori’s protests, and they had laughed about it as Dwalin tried to move through the door and close it behind them with an armful of his lover. He’d carried Nori through their house, smiling as Nori leaned his forehead against Dwalin’s temple.

They’d ended up on their bed of course, even if Nori had whispered suggestions about trying any of the other rooms or surfaces first. He’d known that Dwalin wouldn’t though; his warrior was a romantic at heart and of course he’d want to spend his first night in their new home in bed with Nori, just enjoying what they had now.

Dwalin had made love to him that night; buried deep under the blankets Nori preferred, close and warm, too warm and intense though Dwalin was gentle and slower than usual, enjoying Nori’s body and making sure to stroke and kiss him everywhere he could reach until his thief melted against, him caged by Dwalin’s arms and chest.

Afterwards they had lain together, Nori’s arms around Dwalin’s body, much like they were now. Dwalin had just smiled and brushed his thumb over Nori’s cheek, working his fingers through Nori’s soft hair. There was little Nori could have asked for in that moment, it had been perfect…

He had been so sleepy when Dwalin twined his fingers with Nori’s to pull his hand up and against his chest. Nori had blinked up, smiling at the sight of his pale fingers against Dwalin’s darker skin and the curls on his chest, palm pressed right over his heart. He had barely realized that Dwalin was leaning closer to press his forehead against Nori’s, a quiet sign of affection.

“Bakhuzâluh Mahal,” he’d whispered, quietly but clearly.

It had taken Nori several seconds to understand what those words were and what they meant. He went completely still when he realized, his breath stopping for a few moments.

Dwalin had looked at him; his eyes so warm as he smiled, and Nori’s tongue had felt heavy as lead and there had been nothing he could think of to say as he stared up wide-eyed. He’d been afraid to see the hurt in Dwalin’s eyes, anger maybe, he’d expected for Dwalin to let go of him and go to sleep or even walk out or make Nori leave. He hadn’t though. He’d kissed Nori’s forehead and held him closer as he’d settled down to sleep with his lover in his arms. Nori could even feel him smiling as if nothing had happened at all.

Nori had not expected for Dwalin to reveal his dark name, to trust him with such a secret. Each Dwarf had one, each Dwarf kept their name secret and safe in their heart. The name Mahal himself had given them as he’d forged their soul before they were born, the name of their soul, their destiny, their inner core. It gave others power over you, it was to be kept secret or only revealed to those you loved and closest family.

When Dwarflings were very young they told their parents or oldest sibling, usually. Told them the name they knew for sure was theirs deep in their heart, the only thing their souls could remember from the time the Maker created them. Dwarflings spoke it when they were loved and happy and safe.

Nori had never ever spoken his aloud.

Never in his cold and hungry childhood, cuddled between Dori and his mother or napping against his uncle’s back, or when Ori was born and slept in his arms in turn. Things had never been safe for Dwarves, not for as long as Nori could remember, and there had never ever been a moment to reveal something that laid bare one’s soul.

When he was a child Nori had questioned whether it meant he didn’t love his family enough, but that was just ridiculous. He loved them, but even revealing his name to them seemed like too great a risk. It had been too uncertain and too unhappy a time to speak of something that was meant to be joyful, something that connected them to Mahal and each other more than anything else. Even when things seemed relatively good and sweet little Ori had felt like he could say his name, Nori had not felt quite right about it. Later in life Nori had nearly sneered at those who did more than hastily whisper their name into the ears of the closest of relatives.

He’d had lovers when he was still young, who’d smiled and breathed out the suggestion to share their dark names in husky voices, to demonstrate their love to one another. He’d watched them grow angry or tell Nori that he should just leave. They’d all been so young at the time, and Nori had regretted the rejection, but no amount of love in the world could loosen the knot in his throat that appeared each time he _tried_ to say it out loud.

He had not expected to hear anyone tell him theirs.

He’d been sure that Dwalin would not do this, he just… somehow he hadn’t seemed the type to reveal _that much_ of himself, to anyone.

And he had not been upset when Nori hadn’t replied with his own; he had held him held him with as much love and affection as before, not a trace of disappointment in his face.

Nori had still felt so warm and content from their lovemaking, and with Dwalin holding him so close he still felt loved and secure. He’d turned his face against Dwalin’s chest to hide, and curled against him as much as he could. He wasn’t sure if he’d wanted to cry or not, but Dwalin had held him and said nothing.

He did not always think back to this moment. It was still such a strange thing to consider, that Dwalin had revealed his dark name just like that.

Nori opened his eyes to stare at the crinkles in Dwalin’s shirt. He sometimes still couldn’t believe it.

Dwalin had given him love, had given him safety. He’d protected him and his brothers even before they got along that well, had made sure that Nori was well even as he was glaring at him, before his gaze was so soft and full of love that it sometimes ached in Nori’s chest to look at him.

They had lived together for years, in a mountain that was a home to Nori more than any other had ever been. And Dwalin was still so good to Nori, loved him more than Nori had ever expected anyone to love him for so long, cherished him, was there for him, trusted him with his life, and with his soul as well, gave him comfort in simple beautiful moments like this.

Nori felt his throat tighten with emotion as he squeezed Dwalin’s chest harder and pressed his cheek against him. Dwalin made a low humming sound, but he seemed half-asleep by now. Nori loved him so much, dearly and irrevocably, and sometimes the knowledge of it overwhelmed him like it did now…

“My name is Marakkarûn,” Nori said as he ran one of his hands over Dwalin’s chest.

He felt his breath stop for a split second, and only then Nori realized what he had just said.  
He tensed up all over, leaning away from Dwalin, able to do so as Dwalin’s arms had gone slack.

Nori hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t meant to just tell Dwalin! He’d never told anyone, had never even spoken it out loud as even on his own, hidden under blankets as a little child it had seemed too… wrong. His name had never been spoken out loud, and now he had gone and _told_ it to somebody else.

A tremor of fear ran through Nori’s body, and then Dwalin’s hands were there, on his back and caressing his face and it was _Dwalin_ who looked back at him in wonder.

“I…”

Nori’s throat felt dry again. He curled his fists in Dwalin’s shirt, feeling a buzz in his bones, the feeling of hearing and revealing his name all at once resonating in his entire body.

“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry, it slipped out. I _never_ even _said_ it to myself, I don’t know why _now_ , I don’t understand, why…”

He was shaking all over, and if it weren’t Dwalin sitting there with his hands on him Nori would have bolted, he was sure of it. Like this he felt heavy and tired, and Dwalin pulled him closer.

Nori saw how Dwalin’s lips moved around the syllables of his name, trying it out without speaking it out loud. He smiled, and the gentleness and affection in his gaze was nearly too much to handle.

“I will keep it safe,” he promised, brushing over Nori’s hair soothingly, and Nori believed him.

A sigh escaped his lips, the tension breaking and he sunk back against Dwalin, safe into his embrace. Dwalin said he would keep it safe, and he _would_. It was an honour to know Dwalin’s name, and the most amazing thing to know that Dwalin knew his as well.

Dwalin kissed the top of Nori’s head, hands petting over his hair and back.

“It’s beautiful, you are beautiful. Thank you, I will cherish it. I love you.”

He whispered sweet nothings and promises against Nori’s hair, and his voice sounded a little breathy, full of emotion.

The initial shock of spilling his name out ebbed away and Nori snuggled up against Dwalin’s chest, holding on to him tightly. He smiled as Dwalin’s fingers started to comb through his hair, unravelling the simple braid he’d put it in earlier and rubbing against his scalp.

“Marakkarûn,” Dwalin said quietly, “It suits you.”

Nori felt a warm shiver run through his body and his heart skipped a beat. He liked how _good_ his name sounded in Dwalin’s voice, how special and right, as if it was Mahal himself repeating and confirming how it was his. 

“Bakhuzâluh Mahal. It is perfect for as well,” he said and Dwalin pressed another kiss against his head. It had been the first time Nori had spoken Dwalin’s as well, he realized, and he smiled quietly at the importance and emotion of that moment. He loved saying it quietly and secretly, just as much as he’d liked the reverence in Dwalin’s voice when he said his. 

Never in his life had he felt so happy all around, content and loved and safe; completely safe in Dwalin’s arms.

“Thank you,” he whispered against Dwalin’s neck, and the hands squeezed him a little harder for a moment.

Nori smiled and closed his eyes, completely and utterly happy.

**Author's Note:**

> khuzdul:  
> Bakhuzâluh Mahal - Hammer of Mahal  
> Marakkarûn - He who continues to reach
> 
> The idea of Dwarves only speaking their names when they feel safe, and that Nori never revealed his to anyone is determamfidd's and explained on her tumblr and in her fic Sansûkh. She allowed me to borrow this idea for a short fic :') thanks Dets!


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